


Learn Me Right

by NeverQuiteAwake



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: But as canon compliant as possible until then, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Eventual AU, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mentions of Blood, Pre-Thor (2011), Rivals to Friends to Lovers, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29988525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverQuiteAwake/pseuds/NeverQuiteAwake
Summary: As a maiden of Vanaheim, Eirlys never expected to deviate from the path set before her. Her life takes an unanticipated turn when she becomes Queen Frigga's latest apprentice, and she finds herself at odds with an especially vexing Asgardian prince. Pre-Thor and onwards.
Relationships: Loki/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. An Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was titled after “Learn Me Right” by Birdy.

The sky glimmered with the warmth of daybreak.  Hands curled in the tangle of bedclothes, I blinked away the weariness that threatened to steal away the vision that lay before me. Like a child at play, the sun slowly peeked over the horizon, basking all that it could touch. A spectrum of reds and yellows lit the sky, the colours spilling across the rolling hills and sprawling woods. The lands of Vanaheim looked to be aglow in fire.

With a wistful smile, I clambered out of bed and padded onto the balcony. Leaning on the balustrade, I tilted my face upwards to revel in the burgeoning  warmth of the sun. Autumn was upon Vanaheim, and soon the clouds would take up residence in the skies above. I’d awakened to watch the sun’s ascent, the dawning of a new day, for what would be the last time in a long while. Many months would pass before I’d be able to witness such beauty again.

A soft knock at my bedchamber door pulled me away from the sight. “Enter!”

The door opened to reveal my handmaiden, her eyes bright and cheery. It was a wonder, how she was able to awaken before me every day. _And my father calls_ me _an early riser._ “A fine morning, is it not, my lady?” Arlessa said, bustling about my room to prepare my attire for the day.

“Yes, lovely indeed,” I sighed. “I will miss it. The rains will be coming soon, no doubt.”

Arlessa hummed in agreement as she went rifling through my wardrobe. She selected a sleeveless apricot-coloured dress—one of my more practical garments. “Your father bid me to tell you that he has gone to greet Queen Frigga at the Bifrost site.”

“My father has taken up the task?” I furrowed my brow. “Where has Lord Njord gone?”

“He was called away to Alfheim on an urgent matter,” she said. “Thus, your father shall fulfill his duties for the next three days. He will see to entertaining the queen during her visit.”

Though a single nod from me swept aside the topic of conversation, I was left wondering what matter was so urgent for Lord Njord to leave in the night. The queen’s visit occurred once every ten years, a gesture to keep the bonds between Asgard and Vanaheim strong. Lord Njord had never missed such an event before. I had half a mind to ask Arlessa what called him away, but I knew she wouldn’t have enquired my father any further.

As the sunlight streamed across my bedchamber, Arlessa helped me clothe, tightening the laces of my dress with expert fingers. With a playful tune on her lips, she sat me before the dressing table and braided my unruly waves into a single plait. “I am sure your father expects you to dine with him and the queen tonight,” Arlessa remarked. My heart skipped a beat at the thought. I held a great admiration for the queen, she who was born of my people. It was not her royal standing that I esteemed, rather, it was her talent for magic. To make her acquaintance would have been the greatest honour. “I’ll see to it that your finest dress is prepared for tonight, my lady.”

I beamed while she twisted my plait, pinning it in place with my favourite golden hair comb. “You know me so well.” I rose from my seat to face Arlessa, who had served as my handmaiden since my youth. After so many years, she knew me better than anyone else. “I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”

“Verily, you would flounder,” Arlessa quipped. “You’d be completely lost without me.”

I laughed. “With that, I cannot argue.” I swept across the room, pausing only when I reached the doorway. “If I am needed, I shall be in the house of healing.”

She waved me off. “Good day to you, my lady.”

Leaving Arlessa to her devices, I escaped the confines of my bedchamber and ventured through the castle with ease. There was a chill in the morning air when I entered the courtyard. Suppressing a shiver, I hastily waved a hand over my head, casting away the cold with a simple spell. I took comfort in the breeze then, feeling only its caress and none of its bite.

Grass crunched beneath my feet as I strolled, lifting my gaze to watch the sky’s fiery glow fade into a deep azure. Little by little, the sun inched its way higher in the blue, its rays glistening in the morning dew. By the time I reached the house of healing, the clouds had rolled in, overcoming the sun and every speck of sky, hiding them away for another day.

I exchanged short greetings with my fellows healers upon entering the immense chamber. A number of years past, I began frequenting the house of healing with ambitions of having more to offer my realm. Being a lady of the court felt unfulfilling after so many years of needlework, music, and dance—all things enjoyable, but in my heart I never felt it was enough. As the daughter of the Lord High Steward of Vanaheim, I believed I was meant to contribute more. I could never be my father’s heir, but I would do my best to achieve something worthy.

The head healer, Hyldir, had seen fit to mentor me during my time as a novice. On this fine morning, while in the midst of examining a patient, she nodded to me upon my approach. “Good morrow, Eirlys.”  
  
“Good morrow.” I slowed to a stop at the bedside of a fevered child, a small girl named Freidel who clutched onto her most favoured doll and never let it go. She slept soundly now, her fever broken, or so I judged by Hyldir’s satisfied hum when she removed her hand from the girl’s brow. “I hope she slept well in the night.”

“She did, much thanks to your spell.” Hyldir glanced up at me briefly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Her temperature stayed low long enough for her to sleep suitably. The heat of her fever returned this morning shortly before breaking at last.”

I adjusted the blankets around Freidel. “It was the least I could do.”

Hyldir reached out and placed a weathered hand on my shoulder. “You’ve learned much during your time here. Your mother would be proud.” I gave her a shaky smile, unbidden memories of this very house floating to the surface of my mind. After a moment, she let her hand fall away and motioned in the direction of the herb garden. “All seems to be well this morning. Perhaps you would like some lessons in the way of herbology?”

“Of course.”

The house of healing carried on in relative quiet for the remains of the day. A boy with a scraped knee arrived some time in the late morning. Though I had no difficulty tending to him, curing small wounds like scrapes and cuts were the extent of my healing magic. The day I volunteered to work in the house of healing was also the day I started my studies in magic. After several decades of learning what I could, my aptitude for magic had reached a standstill. The paltry library limited my capacity to learn, and there was little I could do to change that.

In the late afternoon, a lady of the court arrived, striding through the entrance with a well-measured step. She looked quite out of place in the house of healing, for her attire was grand and she seemed neither ill nor injured. I observed her as she paced the house and stopped only to speak to Hyldir. There was a peculiar familiarity in the way they conversed. Something about the courtier made me think I’d seen her before, but I simply could not recall.

Curiosity piqued, I made to approach, but I was diverted by another visitor before I could. Halios, a Vanir hunter, had entered the house of healing for a spell to ward him from the cold. Upon welcoming him, I waved my hand in a circular motion, casting the spell I’d become uniquely adept at. He grinned, and I shared his mirth. So frequent were his visits that he needed no longer speak his request.

“It will only last for several hours, as you know,” I told him. “Hunt well, good Halios. May your aim be true and your belly full of succulent meat this night.”

“Many thanks, Lady Eirlys,” he said with a gracious bow. “Perhaps I shall gift you with a boar if my hunt does indeed fare well.”

I smiled. “Then I eagerly await your return.”

Bowing once more, he turned and jauntily marched from the house of healing. As he left, I caught sight of the unfamiliar courtier treading the aisle, heading in my direction. Her eyes scanned the empty beds before lingering over Freidel. The little girl was awake now and slurping generous amounts of soup; she even fed some to her doll, much to Hyldir’s exasperation. When the finely-dressed courtier neared, her gaze was quick to fall upon me.

“Good day, my lady,” I greeted. “Have you been attended to?”

“I do not need tending.” She seemed rather amused by the question. “You are Lady Eirlys, I presume?”

My brow furrowed. “Indeed, I am.”

“You have a gift for magic.” She glimpsed over my shoulder in the direction Halios had gone.

“I am nothing more than a healer’s attendant,” I said, ducking my head. “My magic does not extend further than a few protection spells and some meagre healing.”

The lady shook her head and drew closer, the gold embroidery of her ivory dress shimmering in the light. “On the contrary,” she said with a benevolent smile. “You have much untapped power. I perceive it within you.”

I eyed her carefully, unsure of how she knew what kind of power I held or why this was of any significance to her. Taking in her features and her attire, it was then that I noticed the circlet resting upon her auburn hair. It sparkled more brightly than any adornment I had seen before.  
  
My heart dropped when I realized who she was.  
  
I nearly tripped over the skirt of my dress in my haste to curtsey before the queen. “Queen Frigga, I did not recognize you.” Cheeks burning, I berated myself for my lack of regard. It had been many decades since I last laid eyes on the queen. Never had I spoken to her, but I respected her from afar. “I was not expecting your visit here—in the house of healing, that is.”  
  
“Do not fret,” the queen said. “There is no need for such formality, especially here. I was once a maiden serving in the house of healing myself.” She gestured to the empty beds that stood on either side of us. “Always a good sign.”

I bowed my head, the heat in my face slowly dissipating. To be in the presence of one so well versed in magic was humbling indeed. “Your Majesty, I greatly admire your gift for healing and protection.”

“And you r father has informed me of your own gift for magic,” Queen Frigga replied. “Though you may not be exceedingly knowledgeable of the art, I see you have potential.”

“I fear my talent for magic has reached its peak,” I remarked. “I have gleaned all that I can from the books we have in Vanaheim. Unfortunately, healing magic takes precedence, and I have never had much of a hand for healing.” I shook my head slightly. “I have also taken an interest in the art of protection, though it is not studied by many here . You are one of the few.”

“Indeed, I was apprenticed to the wisest of teachers. Most practitioners your age would have finished an apprenticeship by now.” She looked at me quietly, contemplatively. Then she graced me with another smile. An oddly knowing smile. “I will be dining with you and your father tonight. We will have much to discuss. Until then, I hope the house of healing remains as quiet as it has been.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope you will enjoy your time in Vanaheim.”

I walked her to the door, and we exchanged cordial farewells before she made her exit. Standing in the doorway, I watched her go, trepidation crawling its way into my mind. _Of what did we have to discuss?_ I wondered. The curiosity remained as I shut the door and returned to the calm of the house of healing.

The wait for supper’s arrival was not an easy one.

When evening fell, I found myself in the antechamber of the dining hall, awaiting the queen’s entry. I paced in front of the fireplace, fiddling with the long, dagged sleeves of my dress. My father sat beside me, sipping languidly at his wine. Both of us had arrived early. Father always prided himself as being better than punctual, and I was to be the same.

Long ago, before I was born, he had been an eminent military leader, punctual and stern. His sense of duty was well renowned, and the warriors under his command gladly followed his example. During the time of the Aesir-Vanir War, he fought and negotiated with the Asgardians with equal fervour. Some time after the war’s end, he was among the warriors who fought the Frost Giants from Midgard to Jotunheim alongside the Aesir. So esteemed he was, the previous Lord High Steward of Vanaheim, having had no heirs, named my father his successor.

Abruptly, I halted to face him. He looked up from the small book in his hand and offered me one of his unfailingly patient smiles. I wished to enquire about the queen’s visit to the house of healing. Something told me that he was aware she’d spoken to me, but he was not entirely aware of what had transpired.

Instead, I asked about another oddity that had captured my curiosity that morning. “Why did Lord Njord leave so suddenly in the night?  Until today, he has always preside d over Queen Frigga’s visits.”

“Njord was called away to Alfheim,” Father said, looking back down at his book as if the topic were inconsequential and not worth a few seconds of his precious time. “There has been a dispute between Frey and the Light Elves. Lord Njord has gone to settle the matter.”

Frey—Lord Frey—was the son of Lord Njord. He’d been appointed the ruler of Alfheim by the All-Father himself following the Aesir-Vanir War. It was of no surprise that the Light Elves of Alfheim chafed under his imposed rule. “Has there been much conflict of late?” I asked.

My father shook his head mildly. “It is nothing for you to be concerned about, my daughter.”

Turning towards the fire, I clenched my hands together before me and frowned. His dismissive tone was something I’d heard often. Despite its regularity, the sting never lessened.

It wasn’t long before the doors to the antechamber opened, a painful creak sounding as it did so. Queen Frigga glided in, clad in a golden gown, her auburn locks piled elegantly atop her head. I wished I had half her grace. And half her talent for magic.

Father approached the queen with open arms. “Good evening, my lady.”

“A good evening indeed, Bjoran.” Queen Frigga kissed both his whiskery cheeks. She advanced towards me, bearing that same motherly smile she graced me with earlier. “Eirlys, you look lovely this evening.”

“As do you, my lady.”

My father smiled graciously, gesturing towards the door. “Let us dine,” he declared. “We have a delectable feast to attend to.”

We made our way into the dining hall, a long and towering chamber. Stained glass windows adorned the far wall, depicting scenes of nature—the beauty of Vanaheim. The walls on either side sported golden banners bearing the Vanir sigil: a swirling orange-red sun, vibrant and glaring; it almost seemed to glow against the gold. The centrepiece of the room was an ancient table, a gift from the Aesir following the war. It was scuffed and dented beneath the tablecloth and could seat nearly fifty guests. For tonight, there would only be the three of us.

“It has been quite some time since I’ve been in here,” Queen Frigga commented fondly as we took our places at the far end of the hall, my father at the head of the table.

Our first course was served immediately: a warm, creamy shellfish soup with fresh biscuits. I quietly sipped the broth and listened to the queen recount tales of her youth. She’d been the daughter of a nobleman, apprenticed at a young age before toiling in the house of healing during the war. Her eyes seemed to gleam with pride as she spoke of how Lord Njord chose her, of all courtiers, to marry the All-Father in a bid to unite the Aesir and the Vanir.

When the second course was served—a dish of leafy greens with a tangy berry vinaigrette—Queen Frigga turned the conversation to me. “Eirlys, I find myself wondering if you are betrothed.”

My eyes widened as I scrambled to keep my fork from clattering noisily on my plate. Questions about one’s marital prospects were often followed by proposals, or so I’d witnessed. “No, I am not betrothed,” I answered. “Though I am sure to be destined for a political match.” My father had always been a pragmatist; a love marriage was never to be in my future.

“Do not look so troubled, for what I am about to offer is of no relation to marriage whatsoever,” Queen Frigga assured me. “I have been searching for a new apprentice for quite some time, therefore I wish to extend to you an apprenticeship. I have seen some of your skill, and I have heard accounts of your aptitude.” I recalled seeing Hyldir and the queen speaking amicably in the house of healing earlier that day; she could have been enquiring about me. “I believe that you have great potential to learn magic, but you cannot accomplish that on your own.”

My first reaction was to look at my father. No decision was ever made without his approval first. I desperately wanted to agree. An apprenticeship would open the way for a multitude of opportunities. I could imagine myself becoming a true healer, curing the sick and the wounded, saving lives. Perhaps even more appealing to me was the idea of travelling to Asgard and seeing all the Nine Realms had to offer. Excitement surging inside me, there was a distinct urge to leap from my seat and shout ‘YES!’ but I refrained from doing so.

Father bowed his head, seemingly considering the queen’s proposal. “It would be a wonderful opportunity, indeed,” he said. My heart dipped as I thought he would follow with a refuting statement. But he did not. “The choice is yours, Eirlys.” He peered at the queen. “I assume she will have to relocate to Asgard.”

“Yes, of course.” Queen Frigga nodded. “When my visit here ends, she  would leave with me.” She gazed upon me with kindly eyes. “You may return home as often as you’d like, so long as it does not interfere with your lessons.”

“Then yes. Yes, of course I accept,” I said, bouncing slightly in my seat. I had to grip the edges of my chair to keep myself from launching to my feet.

“It is settled, then.” The queen all but glowed. “It has been many a year since I last took on an apprentice.”

“I am greatly honoured, my lady.” My cheeks hurt, so widely was I grinning. “I... I know not how to thank you. Words would not suffice.”

“There is no need. I will be learning from you as much as you will be learning from me. That is a gift in itself,” Queen Frigga said gently. Then she raised her goblet of wine. “A toast. To the wealth of knowledge and those who seek it.”

We raised our goblets and drank.

That night, when I climbed into bed, only one thing went through my mind: I had never left home before. Now that I was going to Asgard, I wanted to experience all I could. I dreamed of embarking on grand adventures, of travelling across the Realms to see great beauty and magnificent cities. I knew that residing in Asgard would change my life forever. My mind raced with all the possibilities, the fulfilling future I would finally be able to achieve.

The elation flowing through my veins was so resonant, it wasn’t until the sun began to rise that I realized I hadn’t slept a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written some time between 2012-2014 and uploaded to FF.net, but I’ll be posting chapter by chapter here as I do another edit (I always seem to find typos no matter how many times I proofread).
> 
> Further on in the story, there will also be discrepancies with some canon details introduced to the MCU post 2014 that can’t be changed due to their relevance to the plot. Maybe we can just pretend that this is my own little corner of the multiverse and that’s the reason why certain things don’t entirely add up with canon anymore.
> 
> I should also mention that this version will have some M-rated additions that the original did not have. I will give notice where applicable if readers prefer the T-rated version.


	2. Welcome to Asgard

Arlessa scurried about my bedchamber, checking and double-checking that I had everything I would require. Queen Frigga’s three-day visit was nearing its end. Come morning, I would be departing for Asgard at her side. It had been said that my stay would be indefinite; I expected my apprenticeship to be lengthy, for I had much to learn.

From my balcony’s balustrade, I took in the sights one last time before turning towards my handmaiden. “Arlessa, what in the Nine Realms are you packing?” Holding back a laugh, I sidled closer and gently grasped her hand. “I need only a few dresses. The queen said she’d be providing me with every necessity.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Including handmaidens.”

My heart twisted, but I tried to smile. “She told me I am not to have a handmaiden. Being her apprentice, I shall not be treated like nobility.” After seeing her face fall, I swallowed against the lump in my throat and pulled her into an embrace. I had known Arlessa for the vast majority of my life. Sometimes I felt she was more family to me than my father had ever been. “I will miss you,” I murmured. “I will flounder without you, I’m sure.”

We pulled away from one another, giggling softly. “Knowing you, I am certain you will return sooner than you think,” Arlessa said. “You have always been a quick study.”

I nearly told her that I didn’t wish to return soon, that maybe I could find a place for her in Asgard. If I became a full-fledged healer, then perhaps I would stay in Asgard forever. Vanaheim had become a place of peace and quiet; ailments were rare. I suspected Asgard—a realm of warriors—would have greater need for my help. But I could not tell her that. Even I could not be sure of what the future held for me.

A knock sounded at the door, bringing an abrupt end to my musings. Before I could react, Arlessa dutifully crossed the chamber to answer.

My father strode in, his large frame filling the entirety of the doorway. “Arlessa, might I have a word with my daughter?”

With the curt bow of her head, she left the room.

Once we were alone, I stared at my father expectantly. When he did not speak, I turned from him and moved towards my dressing table. The silence stretched as I gathered a few sentimental items, wrapping them in silk cloth with a delicate hand. Most important among them was my beloved hair comb—a golden ornament inlaid with small emeralds. It had been my mother’s, passed  down  to me after her death.

“This… Going to Asgard will be best for you,” my father said at last. Glancing at him, I stashed my cherished items away in the lone travel bag resting atop my bed. I said not a word, waiting for him to continue his speech. “I want you to learn all you can from Frigga. And to experience the Nine Realms before you have to marry.”

I froze, my fingers stilling on the travel bag’s clasp. “I understand… I will learn much from her.”

He drew nearer, circling the bed to stand before me. This was of great import to him, that much I understood. And yet I remained keenly aware that it had little to do with the advancement of my magical abilities. No, in my father’s mind, this venture was designed for me to learn how to be a lady—and a wife—from Queen Frigga. He had never shown any interest in my magic. But I did know that he worried about my future as a lady of good standing since my mother’s passing. He worried that I had no exemplar to look to.

One of his large hands came to rest heavily on my shoulder. “Make me proud, my daughter.”

My heart sank at the command, the near impossible aspiration. “I will,” I replied, my voice hollow. “I will make you proud.”

Any attempts to sleep that night were plagued with tossing and turning. The evening was as quiet as a darkened wood; I had nothing but the breeze and the occasional rustle of a leaf to keep me company. Lying on my side, I peered out the balcony windows. Not a cloud marred the sky, and the stars winked down at the tranquil realm. Despite the peace of night, I anxiously waited for dawn. I wanted to leap out of bed and ready myself for the journey to Asgard and ensure I was not a second late. For centuries, I dreamed of leaving home. Now the time had finally come.

When the sun rose at last, I followed its lead.

As always, Arlessa arrived shortly thereafter. She said little as she helped me into a long-sleeved  dark teal dress. I had wanted to wear my riding breeches, but she argued that I should look presentable for my arrival in the Golden Realm.

Once I was dressed, she sat me in front of the dressing table and brushed out my hair, letting it flow free. I revelled in the feeling as she ran her fingers through my waves, a nostalgic smile gracing her lips. “Your mother had the same exact shade of golden red hair,” Arlessa murmured. “Like the sky at sunrise, we used to say.”

Tears gathered in my eyes, and Arlessa turned round to rummage through the contents of my travel bag. With a careful hand, she pulled free the golden hair comb and returned to my side. Dropping the silk cloth on the dressing table, she turned towards me and pinned back one side of my hair.

“That’s why it looks just as lovely on you as it did on her,” she said.

I drew Arlessa into a hug. “I will see you before you even begin to miss me.”

We exchanged farewells and promises to write. Then, with my travel bag over one shoulder, I left my chambers.

Treading serpentine stairs and long corridors, I ventured to the grand entrance where I awaited the arrival of my father and Queen Frigga. At the hall’s open doors, I stood in the morning light and watched the sun inch higher into the sky. Eventually it disappeared into the clouds, setting the puffs of silver aglow. It would rain this day, and the cold would permeate the air. I wouldn’t miss it at all.

An escort of ten guards came first, the finest warriors Vanaheim had to offer. The captain of the guard stood among them, honouring me with a short bow. My father arrived not long after, as did Queen Frigga. Conversation was scarce as everyone smiled and nodded in greeting. We mounted our horses without preamble and rode from the castle, traversing the grassy knolls that Vanaheim was famous for.

“Do not fret, my dear,” Queen Frigga said to me. “You may feel a bit out of sorts for a time, but I am certain you will like Asgard. Thor and his friends will be sure to make you feel welcome.”

I was grateful for her reassurance. During the night, fears that I might feel like an outsider in Asgard riddled my thoughts. In the Vanir court, there were a number of maidens with whom I was well acquainted. We’d often chatted over tea and partook in music and dance together; I had never been wanting for good company. To be unwelcome and alone in an unfamiliar place was a disquieting notion.

We reached the Bifrost site just as the clouds shifted enough for the sun to shine through. Upturning my face, I delighted in the daylight one last time before dismounting with the help of a guard. I ran a hand down the neck of my mare, Winifred, and whispered a fond farewell to her. She whickered in response, and I regretted not having raced across the verdant lands of Vanaheim one last time. Grabbing my travel bag, I turned to face my father who had come to a standstill at my side. 

He eyed me, his posture stiff, before embracing me austerely. “Be well, my daughter.”

“And you, Father.”

Leaving behind everything that had ever been known to me, I moved to stand upon the intricate rune embedded in the ground. My legs shook with unease. It had always frightened me to see people travelling to and from Vanaheim by the Bifrost. People were but a blur when they went, and I’d imagined the speeds to be rather unpleasant. With a thick swallow, I tried not to dwell on such thoughts.

Queen Frigga took her place beside me, standing tall and regal. She glanced my way, her calm demeanour comforting. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, unwilling to trust my voice at this point.

She spoke no louder than her words to me had been, “Heimdall, we are prepared for our journey to Asgard.”

A light descended from the sky, and I felt its pull in an instant, as if invisible hands were holding me aloft. I took the opportunity to give my father one last smile before the Bifrost lifted me from Vanaheim and whisked me away to Asgard.

Stars and planets and all manner of terrifying things flew past me as I hurtled across the Nine Realms. The sight of light and darkness streaking by like smears of paint incited the urge to shut my eyes, but I feared what would happen if I did. Before I could even comprehend the speed at which I was travelling, I found myself in the heart of the Bifrost observatory.

I stumbled upon landing, nearly flailing my arms to steady myself. In the time it took for me to find my footing, the queen appeared beside me, as graceful as ever. It seemed as though she’d merely gone for a short stroll in the garden as opposed to making the journey from one world to another through the vastness of space.

Straightening with whatever dignity I had left, I took the opportunity to survey the interior of the observatory. Breath caught in my throat, I stared in awe of the golden dome imbued with ancient magics. I could actually feel it, so powerful it was. I had only seen drawings and read about the Bifrost in the Vanaheim library. The dozen or so books managed to convey its grandeur, but to be standing within the structure itself was something else entirely.

“Good morrow, Heimdall,” the queen greeted the gatekeeper.

He towered over us, his broadsword clutched between his hands, the point resting against the steps of the dais upon which he stood. With his intimidating height and shining golden armour, he was certainly a sight to behold. “I trust your visit was well, my queen.” His voice was so low and sonorous that it vibrated in my chest.

“Yes, it was,” Queen Frigga replied. “As I’m sure you know.”

“Indeed,” Heimdall said, glancing in my direction with amber eyes. “Welcome to Asgard, Lady Eirlys. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

I curtsied to the great guardian of the Rainbow Bridge. “You have my thanks.”

Queen Frigga gestured to the entryway. “Come, Eirlys. Let us ride to the palace.” Her face was alight with cheer. She looked to be so happy about returning home that it made me feel odd to be so glad about leaving mine. “You will have much to see.”

As we took our leave, Heimdall gave us a curt nod in farewell.

Much like there was in Vanaheim, an escort awaited us outside the observatory. I was too preoccupied with gawking at the sight that lay before me to notice them at first. The Rainbow Bridge was mesmerizing. Its crystalline surface glimmered in multicolour, lighting up beneath my feet with every step I took.  As I lingered in the mouth of the observatory, I could see the outline of the city’s structures and the tall golden spires of the palace. The paintings we had in Vanaheim did the Realm Eternal no justice.

“Eirlys.” The queen touched my arm, a small smile playing at her lips. “Shall we continue?”

I nodded and mounted the horse beside hers before plodding forward. As we rode down the bridge, I looked behind to see the stars and the never-ending blackness that lay beyond the Bifrost. I wondered at the apparent night sky that bled into what appeared to be day above Asgard itself. Gripping the reins of my steed, I leaned down to regard the deep waters below, calm and dark.

I took this all in, my wide eyes darting back and forth to seize every detail as if it might disappear at any second. Like a dream. A wonderful dream.

When we marched through the golden gate halfway down the bridge, I was able to see Asgard in all its glory. The city glistered in the rising sun. Nearer to the palace, the Rainbow Bridge came to an end, and our horses were soon trodding upon intricately patterned bronze. Statues of revered warriors stood guard on either side of the path, casting formidable shadows.

We slowed to a stop in front of the grand entrance where grooms waited to receive our mounts. I managed to climb down from my saddle without tripping over my skirt, much to my relief. Swiftly, Queen Frigga arrived at my side and guided me forth. My mouth practically fell open at the massive doors that opened before us.

In Vanaheim, the castle had a modest foyer to greet its guests, one that was no larger than my bedchamber. In Asgard, I was welcomed by the grandest of halls. It was near three times as tall as the Vanaheim castle, the width four times my bedchamber, and the length an incomprehensible measure. Two rows of pillars lined the red carpet in the centre, and the walls were bordered with dozens of golden-arched doorways. The queen made her way down the crimson trail, very nearly leaving me behind as I stood, stunned by the sight.

We strode towards a set of double doors on the left side of the hall positioned between two banners. Both standards were the same: bright red cloth bearing trinity knots—the sigil of Asgard. Two guards were posted beneath them, flanking the entryway. They were dressed in bronze armour, armed with spears taller than they were. _Einherjar_ , I knew them to be. The guardians of Asgard.

“Tell my sons that I have returned home,” Queen Frigga said to them. “Please ask them to convene here.”

They nodded promptly and headed off in different directions.

She then opened the double doors and guided me down a lengthy corridor edged with a vast number rooms. “This is where the bedchambers are located,” she told me. At the far end, we started up a large curved staircase, seemingly endless and dizzying. “Upstairs are the royal apartments. This is where your chambers will be.”

The disbelieving laugh that escaped my lips garnered a smile from her. She’d said I wouldn’t be tended to by a maidservant, but there had been no mention of my rooms. Upon cresting the long staircase, we sauntered down the corridor until we came to a pair of bronze doors. I took note of the towering doors at the very end, ones larger and far more ornate than its counterparts.

My curiosity dimmed when Queen Frigga ushered me into the first of my rooms: the sitting chamber. It was equipped with a fireplace, several couches, a window seat, and a bronze desk with a matching chair. I was delighted to discover that the walls were covered from ceiling to floor with bookshelves. Only a scant few books stood in one of the bottom shelves at the moment. The rest  were bare. I anticipated filling them with tomes of knowledge.

“How do you like it?”

The grin on my face was beginning to make my cheeks ache. “It is more than I could ever ask for,” I replied. “I think I’ll be very happy here. Very happy indeed. Thank you, my queen.”

She returned my cheer. “Please, you need not refer to me as such. When I am nothing more than your teacher, and you are my student, you may call me Frigga.”

I hesitated. “Of course.”

“Now, why don’t I let you settle in and take a moment’s rest?” She motioned towards the only other set of doors in the room. “The bedchamber is just this way. When you are ready, come to the entrance hall. There you shall meet my sons.” Striding past me, she patted my arm. “I have several matters to attend to first. If you are in need of assistance, please ask one of the guards.”

I nodded mutely as she took her leave, shutting the door firmly behind her. The thought of meeting the princes of Asgard roused a strange dread within me. My father always said first impressions were lasting ones. I desperately did not want to make a terrible first impression on the sons of my new mentor. They were royalty, the sons of Odin, and I knew not what to expect.

Taking in a deep breath, I steadied myself and entered my new bedchamber.

The room was immense, almost twice the size of my bedchamber in Vanaheim. A bronze four-poster bed stood atop a low platform, steps lining its edges. The posts held aloft a deep golden canopy, the fabric seemingly gleaming in the light. To the left of the bed was a fireplace and to its right a balcony. Beside the balcony sat a dressing table and the largest wardrobe I had ever seen. With a pleasant warmth in my heart, I paced the steps and placed my bag atop the silken ivory bedcover.

I ventured over to the dressing table and adjusted my mother’s hair comb, ensuring that the emeralds glittered unencumbered. Swiping my fingers down the front of my dress, I felt somewhat embarrassed that I could not have dressed more finely to meet the Odinsons. What I had with me didn’t even come close to comparing with the queen’s raiment.

Intent on being better than punctual, I left the chambers after a momentary reprieve. Footsteps near silent, I made my way down the stairs and towards the entrance hall. Noticing my approach from afar, the Einherjar guards pulled the doors open for me without a word. I paused to express my gratitude before sidling through.

I caught sight of the queen first. A radiant smile brightened her features as she conversed with her sons. They stood at the bottom of the grand stairs, which I was sure led to more magnificent halls. When I approached, all three pairs of eyes turned towards me, and I made an effort not to halt like a squirrel in the path of a charging horse.

“Eirlys, come and meet my sons,” Frigga called, gliding forth to meet me partway. She took my elbow gently and led me closer to them. With her free hand, she gestured to each of them in turn. “This is Thor, my eldest. And this is Loki.”

Thor and Loki were as different as night and day. Thor was radiant and burly, looking every bit the God of Thunder he was. Loki, on the other hand, appeared dark and pale next to his brother—a shadow opposite the sun. Despite their apparent differences, they both stood tall and striking before me. So much so that I felt small and insignificant in comparison, almost childlike.

“Lady Eirlys!” Thor boomed. “My mother remarked upon your gift for magic, but she neglected to mention your beauty.”

I felt my cheeks warm when he kissed the back of my hand. Over Thor’s shoulder, I noticed Loki glancing away from his brother’s antics. I could’ve sworn I saw him roll his eyes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I managed to say.

Thor took a step back and half-turned towards his brother in a clear attempt to prompt Loki into some sort of greeting. With his attention elsewhere and his expression impassive, I thought the younger prince was going to carry on ignoring me. But then his cold blue gaze met mine, and all he offered was a short, “Lady Eirlys.”

“Prince Loki,” I replied in kind. He surveyed my form then—not in a lewd manner, but a carefully appraising one. It was obvious that he was unimpressed with what he saw, for he looked away again, unwilling to conduct any further conversation.

I blinked, heat prickling across the back of my neck, unsure if he was always so unwelcoming or if  I was the only  one who warranted such treatment. Queen Frigga was evidently appalled, judging from the sharp motherly glare of a thousand daggers she sent his way. Loki paid no heed; his regard was firmly focussed on anything but us.

The impending awkward silence was filled by Thor. “You must have a great gift for magic.” I wondered if he’d even taken notice of his brother’s cold greeting. Perhaps he was used to filling tense silences. “I am most impressed my mother took you on as an apprentice. You are one of few.”

I smiled meekly. “I feel I have much to live up to.”

“Do not work yourself to exhaustion,” he said. Then his features suddenly lit up with excitement. “We shall have a feast in your honour. A celebration! What say you?”

My stomach swooped at the thought. “Oh, I am unsure—“

“It would be a most joyous occasion!” His happiness at the idea made it so difficult to refuse. “What say you, Mother? Should not the rest of the court become acquainted with the Lady Eirlys?”

“Indeed, a feast would be fitting,” Frigga agreed.

Regardless of my hesitance, I found myself on the verge of laughing at his eager jubilation. Such enthusiasm could not go ignored. “I am most grateful, Prince Thor. I... I look forward to meeting the rest of the court.” I was in fact not looking forward to meeting the rest of the court; the very thought of it terrified me, but I wished to make a good impression.

“For now, we have much to discuss, my apprentice,” Frigga said, amused. It seemed her son’s unfailing gaiety was infectious. Although Loki was clearly immune. “Let us dine together. Surely you are famished.”

“Verily, my lady.”

We exchanged partings with Thor and Loki, though Thor was the only one who responded with an appropriate farewell.

As I followed Frigga towards one of the doorways nearer to the grand entrance, I glanced behind at the princes of the realm. Thor chattered to his brother, animated and grinning brightly in spite of his brother’s glower. When Loki made his reply, his gaze shifted towards me. Even from a distance, I could perceive the coldness in his blue eyes. A chill travelled down my spine, and I had to force myself to look away.

The remainder of the day was spent in the queen’s company. With every passing minute, my comfort in her presence increased, and I started to see her more as my mentor rather than the Queen of the Nine Realms. We dined together in a private chamber, and she laid out her expectations for me. I was to be up at first light and in the library before mid-morning. She was to lecture for several hours, then I would have the afternoons to myself. Of course, she assigned me my readings: five large tomes that I was to have read by the end of the month.

After we finished our meal, I returned to my chambers, books piled high in my arms. In the shadows of dusk, I entered the bedchamber, set the books atop my dressing table, and proceeded to stare at them. There was no doubt that the stack would only continue to grow. I was a voracious reader, but these tomes seemed a daunting task.

With a sigh, I turned away and shuffled about my room to change into my nightgown. The evening was warm, so I threw open the doors of glass and bronze that led to the balcony. Barefoot, I stepped over the threshold, yearning to see what sights it would gift me.

A garden sat underneath, snuggled against the palace. At the garden’s edge, there was nothing more than a squat stone wall separating it from the steep fall into the Asgardian waters below. Flower beds were nestled alongside it, the blossoms swaying gently in the breeze. A fountain stood near the centre, the sound of its cascade caressing the air.

At the very heart of the garden, a willow tree loomed over all else. Moonlight fell between its swaying branches, illuminating the grass that lay beneath. That’s when I noticed the figure sitting in the tree’s shadow, leaning against the trunk. His complexion was pallid, his face downturned towards the book balanced in his long fingers. I observed his features, his high cheekbones, the blackness of his hair. I inhaled sharply when I realized it was Prince Loki.

He looked up then, and his gaze immediately found mine. Breath caught in my throat, I whirled about to duck back into my room. In my haste to shut the doors, I pinched my fingers between them. Cursing softly, I scrambled into bed and buried myself in the silken sheets. Silence settled around me while I willed the erratic beating of my heart to slow.

As I lay there, staring at the canopy above, a searing heat crept up my neck and engulfed my cheeks bit by bit. Eyes squeezed shut, I inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. I waited for several moments of calm to pass before huffing at myself in exasperation. Fists clenched around my pillow, I turned my back to the balcony and sank further into the bedclothes. 

Slowly, very slowly, I drifted into a much-needed slumber.

I dreamt of cold blue eyes that night and nothing more.


	3. Lesson Number One

As I had done each day in Vanaheim, I awakened with the sun. With a heavy sigh, I climbed from my bed and stretched, arms high above my head. Pacing to the balcony door, I looked across the water to see the strange sight of the Bifrost and the sky above: it appeared as the night, yet sunlight shone upon the rest of Asgard.

Of their own volition, my eyes drifted  to the garden and beneath the willow tree. Though my chest tightened at the memory, there was no sign that he had ever been there at all. Shaking my head, I turned and prepared myself for the day.

I left the boundaries of my room, practically bouncing on my toes as I walked. In the corridor, I asked one of the guards to show me the way to the library, and he did so without a single word. I followed him through the halls, my fervent gaze ensuring that I memorized the route so as to avoid losing my way on the return journey.

When I entered the library, my wits saw fit to escape me. Row upon row of bookshelves towered throughout the room. Every wall was lined with much the same: books and books and more books. The ceiling stood magnificently high, perhaps even two storeys tall. I perused the shelves, glimpsing texts covering every subject known to the Nine Realms. One could spend an entire lifetime attempting to read them all and never succeed.

I strode the length of the grand chamber and stopped to observe the ceiling-to-floor windows at the far end. They faced the same direction as my bedchamber’s windows, overlooking the Bifrost and the dark sea beyond.

A dozen desks sat in a single line, separating the shelves from the windows. Not far from where I stood, one desk in particular had a number of tomes stacked upon its surface. Leaning closer, I scanned the titles and understood that they were meant for me. Without a second thought, I sat, plucked up the first book— _Healing for Novices_ by Aigyn—and began to read.

Minutes slipped by while I feasted on the written word. When Frigga arrived at last, I shut the book and pushed it aside.

“Good morrow.” She sat across from me and tugged the volume closer. “Have you read this one before?”

“No. It may be the only beginner’s book I have never read.” I’d studied many books in Vanaheim, but no matter how many of them I devoured, my talent for healing never improved.

She nodded and returned it to its perch atop the stack. “How much would you say you know about magic?”

“Only what I’ve read,” I told her. “Which is perhaps not very... substantial. I am most familiar with Lord Meyrick’s writings.”

This made her smile. “I was apprenticed to Lord Meyrick. It was he who taught me healing and protection.”

“He did?” A broad grin tugged at my mouth. “What is he like?”

“He was often a strict teacher, but patient and astute,” she said. “His kindness is renowned, as is his penchant for imparting  what he believes to be  words of wisdom.” I noticed the twinkle in her eye. “He’s had many apprentices, ones who travel across the Nine Realms to learn from him, and rightly so.” She reached out and laid her hand atop mine. “And now I will pass my knowledge to you as he did to me.”

My first lesson consisted of magical theory. She spoke of how magic was deeply ingrained in our life force—a part of our very soul, as constant as the blood in our veins. It took much practice to harness that power within. Those who had the gift of magic often focussed on a particular area of expertise. Most were able to master certain innate abilities before learning other spells. For the queen, her innate powers lent to her mastery of healing.

“In your instance, you appear to have a penchant for defensive magics. You were able to cast wards against the elements without having to be taught,” Frigga told me. “Whereas someone like... Loki prefers spells of deception, though he is also well versed in a variety of spells. You both have considerable magic, but you are very different in the way you manipulate it.”

I smiled, amused by the notion that I could ever compare to Loki. I had heard much about the God of Mischief, that he had a particular aptitude for magic, having inherited his gifts from his mother. Some claimed he even surpassed the queen, but I had yet to see if that was true. To wield even a fraction of his power would have been enough for me.

Frigga and I spoke for hours on end until I had a steady understanding of the roots of my magic. “To understand it,” she said, “is the first step towards being able to control it.”

She then assigned my readings—in addition to the ones I already had. My heart slowly sank as I regarded them. The entire heap on the table—four large tomes—was to be mine, and I was to have them read by the end of the month as well. As soon as I bore all four in my arms, she sent me on my way. The remainder of the day was reserved for my leisure. Sadly, I suspected it would be occupied by reading. Endless reading.

When I returned to my chambers, I allowed myself a moment to relax on the balcony. I leaned my forearms on the balustrade, drinking in the sight of the Rainbow Bridge. I dwelled on how my father was faring and debated whether or not I should send him a letter. After all, I’d already written Arlessa. It seemed peculiar that I would dispatch a letter to my handmaiden before my father, and yet I could not bring myself to care.

My musings were interrupted by a knock on my sitting chamber door.

I hurried from my bedchamber to answer, opening the door a mere sliver. My gaze was met with a broad chest clad in leather and ornate silver. Brow raised, I lifted my eyes to find those of Thor. He grinned at me once I opened the door further.

“You look well,” he said, “all things considered. I heard my mother had you up at first light for your lesson.”

“Yes, but I am accustomed to it.” I cast a glance over my shoulder, towards the couches. “Prince Thor, would you like to sit?”

“On the contrary, I would lead you on a tour of the palace,” he replied. “It is your new home after all, Lady Eirlys.”

“Please, you may call me Eirlys.”

“Only if you call me Thor.”

I paused before nodding. “So I shall.” Hesitantly, I looked back at the pile of books on my desk. They mocked me with their enormity, all those pages and words—I enjoyed reading very much, but such a challenging task seemed daunting indeed. What was the harm in spending a few hours away from my books? “As for your offer, I would love nothing more.”

His response was another broad grin.

The moment I stepped out of my room, the tour began. “Those are my chambers,” he said, motioning to the set of doors adjacent to mine. Then he pointed to the doors directly opposite them. “And those are Loki’s. At the far end are my parents’ chambers.”

The ornate door that stood furthermost down the corridor caught my eye. “And what of that one?”

“That would be my father’s sleeping chamber. For when he goes into the Odinsleep,” he said. I raised a questioning brow, having only heard vague details about the Odinsleep. But Thor gestured down the reverse end of the hall with a flourish before I could enquire any further. “Let me show you the rest of the palace, all that you have yet to see.”

The majority of the palace’s halls stemmed outwards like the branches of Yggdrasil, the entrance hall its trunk. Thor guided me past bathhouses, courtyards, and parlours. There was a healing room and its accompanying potions room; I knew I would be spending much time in both.

In the entrance hall, at the top of the grand stairs, he showed me the door that led to the astronomy spire. He pried it open so I could see the long, spiralling staircase that climbed up and up into the tower. It was the tallest point in all of Asgard. The thought of walking all those steps made me lightheaded. “Not many are willing to traverse these stairs,” Thor said to me. “Loki seems to be the only one who actually spends time in the astronomy spire.”

After shutting the door, he headed for the pair that stood beside it. They were tall and grandiose, much like the palace entrance itself. It was set between two marble figures: Bor and Buri—Odin’s father and his father before him. The All-Fathers of the past stood with their magnificent broadaxes clutched in either hand, both Aesir dressed in embellished armour befitting of kings. We strode beneath them, sidling through the doors where we paid a brief visit to the banquet hall and wandered past the doors to the throne room.

We travelled along the path that would take us to the library before coming upon another courtyard. Instead of walking by like we’d done the others, Thor pushed the gate open and conducted me outside. Once I spotted two people sparring, it was not difficult to understand why.

Upon our approach, I was surprised to see that one of the warriors was in fact a woman. She had the grace of a dancer while she dodged and slashed at her opponent. I looked to her sparring partner, a fair-haired man whose technique differed from hers. His attacks were made with a flourish, and his step had more of a spring to it. He glanced in our direction, and his attention strayed completely from the duel the moment his gaze met mine.

The warrior maiden seized the opportunity to disarm him, knocking the weapon right out of his hand. Triumphant grin in place, she touched the tip of her sword to his throat. There was applause from the two men sitting on a nearby bench who’d been watching all the while.

“Do you yield?” the maiden said.

“I do yield if it means Thor introduces me to this fine young maiden,” he replied, gracing me with the most charming of smiles.

The ebony-haired maiden rolled her eyes but lowered her blade regardless.

“My friends,” Thor hailed. The four of them gathered around us, each looking more different than the next. I rocked on my heels, clutching my shaking hands behind my back when I became subject to their scrutiny. “Meet Lady Eirlys, my mother’s new apprentice. Eirlys, this is Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.”

He introduced the three warriors by name: Fandral was the blond whose eyes sparkled as he looked upon me; the rotund, but undoubtedly sturdy man was Volstagg; and the silent, dark-haired fellow was named Hogun, a warrior who hailed from one of the clans refuged on Vanaheim.

“Lady Eirlys, what a great pleasure it is to make your acquaintance.” Fandral swooped forward to kiss my hand. “Your beauty has me at a loss for words.”

“Oh, please,” Lady Sif scoffed at him, though I noted the smile playing at her lips. She looked towards me as she smacked his hand away. “Pay him no mind. He has a habit of wounding hearts.”

“Brother!” Thor said suddenly. “Come give greetings to Eirlys.”

I started, only noticing Loki for the first time. Shrouded in the shadow of the palace, he sat, somewhat slouched, on the stone bench nearest to the door. With a disinterested eye, he glanced up from his book—the same he’d been reading the night before—and lifted a brow. “I have already met the Lady Eirlys,” he said. “What more would you have of me?”

“A bit of kindness, perhaps?” Sif said.

“I don’t think him capable,” Fandral chuckled.

Loki looked away then, returning his attention to his book. Thor seemed to frown at his brother’s discourtesy, but he said nothing of it. Instead, he made an announcement, “I have convinced my mother to host a feast in celebration of her new apprentice.”

“A feast!” Volstagg cheered. “There is no finer way to welcome a newcomer to Asgard.”

“I must admit, having a whole feast in my honour frightens me,” I remarked. “I’m not one for... having much attention on me.”

Fandral feigned shock. “You must receive plenty of attention, a beautiful maiden like you.”

Sif shook her head at him before saying to me, “Do not fret. The court might not be the most hospitable gathering of Asgardians, but you have nothing to fear.”

The warriors’ unwavering good humour made me feel welcome, as Queen Frigga had anticipated. Even so, I felt a certain unease in their company. With their raucous laughter and sometimes uncouth tongue, they were very unlike the mild-mannered Vanir I’d known all my life. Though I may have been unaccustomed to their ways, I did not let it interfere with my enjoyment of the time spent with them.

As was promised, a feast of great honour was held two days hence. In the morning, the queen presented to me a pale pink dress; the cloth was gauzy and silken, the bodice intricately embroidered with golden thread. I’d been quite stunned by the gift. It was more beautiful than any dress I’d worn in Vanaheim. And yet it seemed a trifling matter to the queen. Exquisite gowns were in abundance in Asgard, so I surmised.

Just before the feast was to begin, I stood at the entrance of the banquet hall, fussing with the delicate fabric of my skirt. I had a sinking feeling that the Einherjar guards flanking the door were watching me furtively. Probably thinking I was ill of mind. I must’ve been standing there for more than fifteen minutes, pacing to and fro every so often. At one point I almost walked inside, but I lost my courage.

“Are you planning to linger out here for the rest of the evening?”

I whirled around to see Lady Sif. She joined me in front of the entrance, appearing far taller and prouder than I felt at that moment. “I was considering it,” I remarked. Clearing my throat, I rubbed at both my arms. “It’s strange... I have always been a member of the court in Vanaheim. Being my father’s daughter, I was often paraded in front of all the lords and ladies. Now, I am mortified by the thought that all eyes will be on me.”

Sif observed me quietly for a moment before turning so that we stood aligned, side by side. “Perhaps they will be,” she said. “Perhaps they are curious about the maiden who garnered the queen’s attention enough to become her apprentice. Perhaps they will ridicule you.”

I furrowed my brow at her attempt to reassure me. “Ridicule me? I’m beginning to believe staying out here might be a good idea after all.”

She lowered her eyes, a faint smile touching her lips. “I was the subject of much ridicule when I dared become a warrior... and I still am. Do not let it cause you distress.”

Her words somehow put me at ease. To know I did not stand alone soothed my anxieties. “Thank you, Lady Sif,” I said, offering her a quavering smile in return. “Perhaps we can be the subjects of ridicule together?”

With a breath of laughter, she nodded for the guard to open the doors. “We shall.”

We both strode forth and entered the hall, though I saw fit to remain a few paces behind Sif. All courtiers in the immediate vicinity looked upon us, gazes steeped in curiosity. Among them were a number of young maidens; several whispered to one another behind their hands, scrutiny wavering between Sif and me. I frowned and tried to ignore them.

We reached the far end of the dining table, which was large enough to seat a hundred people or more. The Warriors Three had already arrived: Hogun and Fandral shared drink amongst a group of laughing Aesir, while Vostagg spoke animatedly with a voluptuous copper-haired woman.

When Volstagg spotted me, he beamed and approached with the woman on his arm, intercepting me moments before Fandral could make his attempt. “Lady Eirlys, how lovely to see you,” Volstagg said. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Hildegund.”

I blinked in surprise just as I heard Fandral say in the distance, “Volstagg has a wife? I thought food was his only love!” His jape was followed by a shout of “ow!”—courtesy of Sif, no doubt.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” I said, pretending not to overhear Fandral and Sif’s squabbling.

“I too hail from Vanaheim,” Hildegund said. This knowledge seemed to relieve some of my remaining tension. “I was a member of the Vanir court long ago, when I was but a maiden. You are the daughter of Bjoran and Keldas, are you not?” I nodded in answer. “I recall seeing you last when you were small. Always so spirited and audacious.”

A laugh almost bubbled up at the thought of my once unruly childhood. That rambunctious part of my life had been rather short-lived, and there wasn’t much I remembered from that time. Nevertheless, I sifted through the memories I did retain. _Hildegund?_ I mused. _Hildegund... whose deep red hair I so admired_. Her hair was so rich and vibrant compared to mine. She’d often spent time with my mother and her courtiers, making music and embroidery and art. “Yes, I remember.” My heart lifted as I  recalled all sorts of details from my youth. “You always baked those wonderful chocolate cakes with the chocolate sauce inside.”

“And she still does,” Volstagg said affectionately.

Our reintroduction was cut short when the sea of courtiers parted without warning. Volstagg and Hildegund looked about in curiosity, and I mimicked them moments before spotting the sons of Odin. They were making their way through the crowd, Thor greeting all he passed while Loki said not a word. Behind them strode Frigga and, much to my alarm, the All-Father himself.

I brushed down the front of my dress and fiddled with a stray curl of my hair. I knew not what to expect from the All-Father, never having him seen him in person before. I hadn’t heard much of his character, only that he was highly revered by all in the Nine Realms. As the king and queen neared, his single-eyed gaze fell upon me, his expression unreadable. The queen, however, beamed at me. I could not help responding in kind, immediately comforted by her gentle presence.

I gave a low curtsey. “All-Father, it is an honour.”

“Lady Eirlys, I have heard much about you from my wife and son,” he said.

My eyes darted in Thor’s direction. He stood close by alongside his brother, watching my interaction with the All-Father but attempting to feign otherwise. “Pleasant words, I hope,” I remarked.

“But of course.” He graced me with a kind smile. “You will learn much here. You are in good hands.”

“How are you enjoying your time in the palace?” Frigga drew closer, taking my hands with her own. “I see you’ve been spending much time with my son and his friends.”

“I have.” I looked over to where they’d gathered now. They were basking in merriment as Volstagg recounted a story—most likely about food, as he often spoke of his culinary adventures. “They have been most welcoming.”

The queen patted my hands before letting go. “Good, that is very good to hear,” she said. “Now, let us feast. I am quite famished.”

With her lead, we took our places at the table. The All-Father was situated at the head, Thor to his right and Queen Frigga to his left. I took the seat beside the queen, and Loki sat directly across from me. The prince had been nothing but discourteous towards me since my arrival. At my celebratory feast, he remained so.

It fascinated me to observe the stark difference between him and his brother. Thor was boisterous with all he conversed, including his mother and father. He even made an effort to engage me in talk, which I was able to reciprocate with increasing ease. Throughout the feast, Loki offered me no words. But I saw the way he spoke in the company of his family: to the All-Father, he was conscientious and respectful; with his mother, he was warm.

When Loki fell into conversation with his brother, however, I saw a completely different side of him. He was much more amiable, lively even. For the first time in the three days since I’d met him, I actually saw him smile.

He chose that very moment to glance in my direction. Heart leaping to my throat, I instantly looked down at my plate and struck up a discussion with the queen about the lentils. She seemed oddly amused by the topic, which was admittedly not amusing at all. There was something about the look in her eye that told me she knew something I did not.


	4. The Crystal Cavern

Weeks sped by in the wake of the welcoming feast. Much of my time was spent with the queen, soaking in her every word. When I was not in her company, I was with my books. More often than not, I would sit in the courtyard with Thor and his friends, typically with my head stuck in a tome. I noticed Loki would do the same, though he seemed to take more interest in the warriors’ sparring than I. Sometimes he’d watch and comment on their performance, much to their evident irritation.

In my lessons, I had moved on from magical theory to begin studying herbology and practicing the brewing of potions. With less lecturing and more application, this allowed more cordial talk between Frigga and me as we prepared ingredients.

“Has Thor always been so spirited?” I asked one day, absentmindedly grinding up kingsleaf. “He is so full of life. I have seen no equal.”

“Oh, yes, it was rather exhausting to keep after him when he was a child, even with the help of numerous nursemaids,” Frigga said with a sigh. She took the kingsleaf from me and tossed it into the small cauldron hovering precariously above the flame. “But nothing was worse than the age when he was just big enough to wield a weapon. It was a miracle no one lost a limb.”

I giggled at the mental image of a young Thor brandishing a sword twice his size. “Yes, I imagine there are few who can contend with his strength.” Brushing off my hands, I pointed at the small tubers I’d cut up earlier. “Should we add the liferoot now?”

“Not until it starts boiling,” she said. We watched as the half-complete concoction began to simmer. “Loki didn’t need as much looking after as a child. He has always been unlike his brother. He’s far more... reserved.”

I smiled crookedly at the vast understatement. “Yes, I don’t think he’s said more than two words to me since I arrived.”

“Do not worry,” Frigga told me. “You’ve spent much time with his friends. I’m certain he will have more to say to you eventually.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. We may have exchanged very few words since my arrival, but I was still quite conscious of his aversion to me, the reason for which remained unknown. Regardless, I bore witness to his unpleasant demeanour with others often enough to know that I would receive the same. Or worse. _Perhaps we would both fare better if we never spoke again_ , I thought.

Once the potion began boiling, I dropped in the diced liferoot and watched the milky mixture turn clear. I grinned proudly, even as it started emitting a smell akin to fermented herring.

“Wonderfully done! Much better than the last attempt.” Frigga stirred the potion with a long-handled ladle. “It even smells as it should.” We shared a warm laugh in spite of the putrid odour presently overwhelming us. “I believe that should be enough for the day. I shall see you on the morrow.”

I nodded, eager to escape the potions lab, while the queen started to pack away the utensils, seemingly unbothered by the smell. All but running from the room, I called over my shoulder, “Good day to you, my lady.”

Upon returning to my chambers, I was quick to change my attire as the dress I’d worn to my lessons still bore the smell of the potion we’d brewed. With a wrinkled nose, I stuffed it into the clothing hamper, burying it beneath my other garments.

Now smelling far fresher than before, I hummed an old tune and sauntered into my sitting chamber to arrange my bookshelves. All the books that Frigga had assigned to me yet remained in my possession; there were at least twenty now, most of them read and ready to be stowed away. I went about sorting them by subject, climbing up and down the wobbly wooden ladder to reach the upper shelves.

A knock interrupted my task, and I hurriedly descended to answer the call.

Fandral’s dashing smile was there to greet me. “Ah, my dear Eirlys. A fine afternoon, is it not?”

“Yes, a good afternoon indeed,” I said, beaming in return. “How might I be of service?”

“Would you like to go to Alfheim?” he asked.

I blinked before an incredulous laugh escaped my lips. “All the way to Alfheim? When? Right now?”

Fandral shrugged and tilted his head. “We often travel to other worlds,” he told me. “We’ve had many adventures in all the realms... except Niffleheim, of course. And Jotunheim, never been there either.” He grinned. “In Midgard, the mortals regard us gods. Actual gods!”

I found myself sharing in his delight. There seemed little reason for me to decline. After the first two weeks, I was able to read my texts at a steady pace, and the burden of my studies had been somewhat lifted. A day in the company of new friends would not be disagreeable. “I have wished to see the wonders of the Nine Realms all my life,” I replied. “Nothing would make me happier than to accompany you to Alfheim.”

If at all possible, his grin grew wider. “There’s a rumour about a cavern in Alfheim,” Fandral enthused. “In this cavern, there are these crystals. Beautiful crystals of all sorts of colours that glow in the darkness. They may even have magical properties.”

I raised a brow. “And who else will be joining us?”

“The usual company,” Fandral said. “Thor, Loki, Sif, and the Warriors Three.”

“Loki? Truly?”

“Yes, we need someone proficient in magic.” His eyes widened. “Not that you aren’t proficient in magic.”

“You can say that on the day that I _am_ proficient in magic,” I assured him, and his demeanour was instantly relieved of tension. Curiosity struck me then, and I simply could not resist posing an enquiry. “Tell me, Fandral. What are your thoughts on Loki?”

Though he chuckled, there was a moment of hesitation. “Well, I’m not precisely... fond of the fellow,” he admitted. “Still, I’m not averse to his company. I respect him, and I know well enough not to cross him.”

“He does not seem too fond of me.”

“Oh, that’s just his manner,” Fandral remarked. “He takes a bit of getting used to.”

The thought that I would have to further contend with Loki’s unfriendly conduct bothered me. Even so, knowing that I was not the only one who did brought me a sliver of comfort. “It is no major concern.” I slipped through the doorway. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” he said. “We will be riding. I hope you don’t mind.”

“On the contrary, I love to ride.” However, I did regret being unable to don the riding breeches I’d requested to be tailored. It seemed I had no choice but to suffer riding in a dress that was not meant to be ridden in. But I wouldn’t let it dampen my excitement. “Truly, it is the only time I feel free. With the wind in my hair, the endless plains racing by. It’s an adventure in itself, and there is nothing I love more.”

He beamed at me. “We are truly kindred spirits. Let us depart this instant.”

Arm in arm, we walked to the entrance hall where we were to meet his friends. Fandral spoke avidly of Alfheim and its beauty. _Enchanting_ , he called it, and I found my interest piqued; I knew little of Alfheim other than the fact that it was home to the Light Elves. He told me he wished to gather several crystals from this mysterious cavern—not for himself, but to present as gifts to the next few maidens he intended to woo.

“Eirlys, I am overjoyed you decided to accompany us!” Thor said the moment we reached the entrance hall.

The rest of the group smiled in greeting. Save Loki, of course. His impassive features made no change whatsoever, even when his gaze slid over me.

“I must admit, I am glad to no longer be the only maiden,” Sif said, striding in tandem with me as we made our way towards the palace entrance. “It can be difficult to keep company with this lot.”

I stifled a giggle. “From what the queen has told me, I imagine it must be exhausting.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Just outside the entrance hall stood seven steeds. The horses belonged to one of our party each, and I found myself longing for Winifred, my ever faithful mount. 

“I have borrowed one of my mother’s mares,” Thor said, guiding me towards a honey-coloured horse. “Her name is Astrild.”

I gently ran a hand down the mare’s neck, admiring her shiny coat. “Greetings, Astrild.” She snorted softly in response. “You are a true beauty.” I glimpsed Thor’s amusement while he turned to mount the white stallion waiting beside her.

Sitting astride the mare proved to be near impossible, even with the leeway my free flowing dress provided me. As I struggled to seat myself in the saddle, I sensed Fandral was on the verge of rushing forward to offer me aid, but I had both feet in the stirrups before he could. I was never one for riding sidesaddle; I’d been taught to ride by my father’s guards, and riding sidesaddle was obviously not one of their strengths. Glancing in Sif’s direction, I found myself envious of her armour vestments and trousers.

With words of cheer, Thor led the charge down the road and onto the Rainbow Bridge. I relished the gale caressing my skin and the effervescent glow of the bridge before us. This was freedom to me: to ride unattended at speeds surpassing that which was considered sound and sensible. The bridge’s gates opened before us with no prompting, and our momentum did not falter.

When we arrived beneath the starry sky, we slowed to a trot and entered the observatory one at a time. Standing at the summit of the circular steps, Heimdall appeared unfazed as we surrounded him with our seven steeds. I came to a halt in front the opening and peered out at the endless dark. There was but a void. Black and endless. It made my blood run cold. 

“Off to Alfheim, I see?” Heimdall’s voice reverberated in the golden dome.

“Indeed we are,” Thor replied. He grinned up at the formidable gatekeeper like an old friend. “Father has approved of this venture.”

“I already know,” Heimdall said. His sharp gaze surveyed each of us, lingering on me a moment longer than the rest. “The sunset in Alfheim is lovely this time of the year. Perhaps you will stay until then?”

“Perhaps we shall,” Thor said.

And with that, the guardian of the Bifrost slid his sword into the pedestal. Branches of illumination—like lightning—shot from the column and danced along the walls. The observatory rattled and hummed as the circular opening began to swirl and glow, the golden structure spinning above our heads.

I glanced at my companions, all of whom looked upon the opening gateway with nothing more than mild interest. I, on the other hand, took to staring. My hands tightened around Astrild’s reins, trembling ever so slightly. Travelling by the Bifrost wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, but the thought of venturing into Alfheim to seek out a magical crystal cave filled me with greater anticipation. I wouldn’t miss this opportunity for anything.

Heimdall left us with two parting words: “Safe journey.”

Then I felt the tug of the Bifrost and was flung forward. Light and sound streaked by like shooting stars and roaring winds. Before long, I saw Alfheim ahead of me, a sphere of green and blue. It drew closer and closer, as though it were growing rapidly below me. Seconds after I took it all in, I landed upon solid ground.

I was not as disoriented as I had been the first time I travelled by Bifrost, much to my relief. Even better, I was firmly astride Astrild, therefore I could not embarrass myself by losing my balance and teetering forward.

Sif had landed to my left with a huff. “I’ve never been fond of travelling by the Bifrost,” she said to me, rubbing down her arms. “Sometimes it feels like you’re falling into an abyss.”

“All present and accounted for?” Volstagg asked, giving the group a cursory once-over. Satisfied, he nodded and turned to Loki. “Where are we headed?”

Loki procured a small piece of parchment from his saddlebag. He eyed it silently for a mere moment before motioning in the direction of the rising sun. “This way,” he said gruffly. He acted as our guide, Thor moving to ride beside him. 

I gave Sif a look, my brow furrowed. Hogun seemed to take notice. “Loki does not trust anyone else with directions,” he said.

We rode two by two, though our uneven numbers forced Volstagg to take up the rear by his lonesome. The lands of Alfheim were made of rolling hills teeming with luscious green grass that reminded me of home. Wildflowers grew, scattered across the greenery. Their colours were varied and vibrant, and I made sure to avoid trampling them. Alongside me, Sif appeared to be taking in the sights with an equally appreciative eye.

Within an hour, our company came to a dirt road. As we ventured forth, we often crossed paths with the residents of Alfheim—Light Elves who offered us kind greetings. They looked much like the Aesir, save for their pointed ears and vibrant blue eyes. I recalled my father telling me about the Light Elves’ quarrel with Lord Frey, which proved difficult to believe since they seemed like such friendly folk.

“How much farther do we have to go?” Fandral yelled ahead to where Loki and Thor were leading the way.

“There is no exact location,” Loki said, “since we are travelling based on rumour alone.”

Our party rode onward, growing more impatient by the minute. I was able to enjoy the view and the mild weather, but I could tell everyone else had been here before. No one else was as fascinated by the lands as I. Fandral and Thor seemed especially restless, judging by the way they kept twirling whatever weapons they happened to bring with them. Fandral had a startling number of knives on his person.

Volstagg came riding up beside me with a cheery smile. “Lady Eirlys, would you like to be regaled with a tale of bravery and adventure?”

His merriment seemed infectious, and I responded with high spirits, “Good Volstagg, I would love nothing more.”

“Shall we tell her about our journey into Nornheim?” Fandral said, appearing on Volstagg’s opposite side. “Or perhaps the time we went hunting for bilgesnipe.”

“You went hunting for bilgesnipe?” I said incredulously.

“A deep regret, I assure you,” Thor called over his shoulder.

“Yes, awful scaly creatures with antlers the size of trees,” Fandral remarked. “They smell like rotten eggs too. Have you ever seen one?”

I shook my head. “Only in drawings.”

“You should consider yourself fortunate,” Volstagg said. “None of us were in our right minds when we allowed Thor to convince us to travel all the way to Gymirsgard to see if we could best a bilgesnipe.”

“Unfortunately, we didn’t seem to consider that they travelled in packs,” Sif added. 

Thor glanced behind, the corners of his eyes crinkling. I noticed Loki shaking his head beside him. 

“Of course, that didn’t deter us,” Fandral chuckled. “Sif was the only one who stayed back, hiding amongst the trees.”

Sif let out a chuff of laughter. “By that he means I was the only one thinking coherently that day.”

“No arguments there,” Volstagg chortled. “Now, Thor was eager to fell one of the beasts all on his own. Wanted to mount the head right above his fireplace.”

“Thor ran straight at them with a mighty roar,” Fandral said, raising his fist in what I assumed was an imitation, “and he was instantly trampled. Stomped right into the ground.”

I gaped. “Oh no.”

Fandral and Volstagg, on the other hand, laughed raucously. “In our attempt to come to his aid, we were thoroughly trampled too,” Volstagg said.

“So no bilgesnipe was felled that day?” I said, looking from Volstagg to Thor and back again.

“Oh, only one bilgesnipe was felled,” Thor said, turning in his saddle. “Loki, with all his cleverness and his tricks, managed to corner and slay the repulsive beast that trampled me.”

“It was quite impressive,” Volstagg remarked. “I would even say magnificent if Loki hadn’t been covered from head to toe in bilgesnipe blood.” He attempted to smother a laugh, but failed miserably. “He smelled like a bilgesnipe for an entire week. You couldn’t even go near him.”

Everyone dissolved into laughter then. Even I joined in, laughing until my sides ached. I caught Loki glancing behind while his brother guffawed. Although he wasn’t quite as amused as the rest of us, I saw the corner of his mouth lift in the smallest of smiles.

We continued our way through the Alfheim countryside. Volstagg and Fandral spoke further of their many other adventures in Nornheim, Midgard, and even—to my surprise—Vanaheim on occasion. Their tales, matched with the manner in which they told them, made me laugh more than I ever had in my entire life.

Our path seemed directionless at first, but Loki conducted us steadily, clearly having a better idea of our destination than when we initially arrived. As we began descending rocky hills, heading deeper into a valley, I knew we were nearing our goal. 

“This had better be the right place,” Fandral muttered. When his chestnut steed stumbled on the increasingly slippery rocks, he frantically tugged on the reins and came to a halt beside me. “I think we should stop. Leave our horses here.”

“Agreed,” Loki said. He was the first to dismount, his movements hasty and graceful.

My struggle to dismount was not nearly as elegant, to say the least. Hours of riding had taken their toll on my legs, my muscles sore and the skin on my thighs chafed. Thor was quick to come to my aid, grasping my waist delicately to help me from Astrild’s saddle. “Oh! Thank you, Thor.” I inwardly cursed myself for the heat sprouting on my cheeks.

Loki was off, tearing down the valley before I was standing upright on my own two feet. Thor gave me a brief smile and followed after his brother, shouting, “Brother, wait! We will be lost without you!”

Owing to the confines of my dress, keeping my footing on the downward slope was unnecessarily challenging. This time Fandral came to my rescue, grabbing my hand before I could slip and fall backwards like a complete imbecile. I gave him a chagrinned look. “I’m not normally this clumsy,” I promised him. “Dresses are clearly not made for adventuring.”

“Well.” Fandral grinned. “I’m not complaining.”

Upon reaching the bottom of the increasingly narrow valley, we were met with a cave. Stalactites and stalagmites stood guard at its entrance, giving it a far more ominous appearance than it would’ve had otherwise. From our view, the inside of the cave was pitch-black, not unlike the very abyss I’d stared into at the edge of the Bifrost earlier that day.

At the fore, Thor and Fandral drew torches from their packs, swiftly igniting them and striding inside without a word. Loki was on their heels, conjuring a bright sphere of magic in the palm of his hand. My eyes grew wide at the sight, never having seen him wield magic until now. It took some gentle prompting from Hogun to get me moving again.

Sif remained next to me as we entered the cave, her arm occasionally knocking against mine every time she glanced up and down the passage. Her proximity made me jump at first, but I soon found her nearby presence reassuring. On either side of us, stone structures cast frightening shadows like monsters in the dark. Loki lifted his hand, the blue-green light of his magic driving them away.

We ventured deeper into the cave—a tunnel, more like—and the air grew colder. No one spoke. I was under the impression that my companions feared what could be lurking in the dark, even if the possibility was never considered before. Further and further we sank into the gloom until we discovered a faint light emanating from below.

“There! There it is,” Fandral said. 

He hurried forward, and we followed suit.

After several yards, we ducked beneath a row of low-hanging stalactites before coming to a standstill. We found ourselves in the heart of an underground chamber. My mouth fell open as I looked above, below, to the sides. Everywhere, the entire cavern, was covered with crystals of all different colours, each of them glowing brightly like stars in the night sky. Fandral and Thor extinguished their torches, and Loki let his light dissipate. So bright the crystals were, we could see everything as though we were standing in the sun.

“This is marvellous,” Fandral exclaimed. He spread his arms, laughing at the sight before us. He approached the closest cluster of crystals. They lit up the side of his face in a glaring shade of blue. The rest of our party dispersed to admire the various colours.

I moved to join Fandral, reaching out to touch the smooth sides of the formation. My brow dipped when I felt the faint tingle of magic being drawn from my fingers.

Silent as a spectre, Loki appeared beside me, and I had to stop myself short of starting at his sudden presence. “There is magic in these crystals,” he commented to no one in particular.

Moving my fingers away from the crystalline rock, I nodded absently. “I feel it too,” I said. “It feels like it’s emanating power... yet absorbing it at the same time.”

Loki met my gaze then, his eyes glowing bright blue in the light of the crystal before us. The dip of his brow disappeared as quickly as it came. “Yes, it must be channeling magic.”

We glanced away from one another, and my attention was instantly captured by the deep green crystals a short distance away. It seemed to catch his eye too. With his long legs, he made his way over to them in a few short strides. Similarly intrigued, I scurried after him, and we observed the green formation together.

“The green ones,” I murmured, “they feel—”

“More powerful.” Loki nodded. “This cluster is larger. It must be older than the others.”

Utilizing one of his daggers, he cut a chunk of the green crystal free. The others of our group and I used a chisel and a hammer to take crystals of our choosing. I took but a sliver of a crystal, one of rich purple. Fandral obtained handfuls of various colours for the large number of maidens he vowed he was going to pursue.

New spoils in hand, we took our leave from the cavern as swiftly as possible. The tunnels seemed less daunting with our crystals glimmering and lighting the way. Once we exited the cave, climbing out of the valley proved just as challenging as climbing down was, but I managed to reach Astrild unscathed.

We rode back towards the Bifrost site just as the sun began its journey towards the skyline. Now that we knew the way, we were able to travel across the grassy plains at greater speeds. The sky began to darken by the time we reached the cliffside where Heimdall would call us home. With mere words, he could’ve taken us to Asgard in an instant. But the view from the precipice was so captivating that none of us had the heart to leave it.

The sun dipped into the horizon, beyond the deep ocean waters. It flooded the sky in an array of colours: orange and hot pink melting into purple and dark blue. I had always adored the sunsets on Vanaheim, but this was a true sight to behold.

“So, how did you enjoy our little adventure?” Sif asked, her features bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. 

“I think we’re going to have to do this more often,” I said.

Her eyes gleamed in the light, and she gazed upon the fine view once more. As I sat there, staring across the ocean of colour, I realized I’d never felt so content before. For the first time in my many years, I knew exactly where I wanted to be.


End file.
